Weekend at the Cabin





So the last post was my lengthy reflection on returning to Minnesota as a visitor.

This post is about the fun part of the trip home. Back in the land of 10,000 lakes, I spent a couple days at a little resort near Brainerd with the Toeniskoetter clan. We did exactly what we were supposed to do at a cabin: played board games and card games: swam, boated, fished and lazed around; ate too much; drank too much; and exchanged insults and pulled practical jokes on each other.

I had brought a magnetic Obama for President bumper sticker with me. While Jane’s conservative Republican brother was running into town for goodies, we slapped that puppy on his Intrepid, then lurked behind the bushes waiting for his reaction. He didn’t disappoint.


Here is a photo of Jane eating her sister-in-law’s patented “Cookie salad.” Yes, California friends, this passes for salad in Minnesota, and can be found at family gatherings and church basements around the state. The ingredients are Cool Whip, vanilla pudding, canned mandarin orange sections, and chocolate covered graham crackers. It was served in the tasteful jumbo-sized yellow Tupperware bowl. And note that Jane washes it down with an approved accompaniment, Mike’s Hard Lemonade.

Jane wants it noted that this is a “diet” salad because it is made with Cool Whip Lite and sugar-free Jello pudding, and the chocolate-covered graham crackers are Snackwells brand. Personally, I think any salad that contains cookies just doesn’t qualify as diet anything, especially when it’s served in a two-gallon tub. But Jane is the boss and I had to comply.

There were 28 Toeniskoetters and associated hangers-on at the place; we had 7 of the 11 cabins at the resort. We ate our dinners together, each cabin preparing one evening’s meal. It was always something good for a crowd, like tacos or spaghetti, washed down with one of the following approved accompaniments: hard lemonade, Grain Belt, Leinie’s. If you have to ask about those last two, you are not from Minnesota or Wisconsin.


Dave relaxes in the shade as grandson Loren exhibits the approved “big baby-head flop” while snoozing in his stroller

Comments

Anonymous said…
I just want it noted that the cookie salad is a diet salad; it is made with lite cool whip and sugar free vanilla pudding and the chocolate covered graham crackers are Snackwells brand.
September 1, 2008 at 10:56 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

When in Rome...

Image
Gauss and I had been through Rome only once before following our ill-fated flight from Sri Lanka to Italy in 1982. My memories are hazy and few. Back then we landed at Da Vinci airport and had to get to Milano. Nerves jangled, we were not about to board another plane just then, so we took a bus to the train station. I recall rolling past the coliseum and being a little surprised that it was right there , although I was unable to muster anything resembling enthusiasm. This time we vowed to pay attention. I planned only one thing in Rome—a visit to the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican Museum. I made an online reservation a month in advance so that we would not miss it, printed the entrance voucher (NOT TRANSFERABLE printed across it in bold letters) labeled it with a Post-It, and added it to the folder of important travel documents. We had another aim for the day as well: to get Italian SIM cards for the cell phones we'd purchased in anticipation of the trip. Despite the seve
Read more

Italy, On My Own This Time

Image
In this blog I've covered past trips to Italy. This one is different. Since Gauss died last June, I've thought I should come back here, for several reasons. The first is to immerse myself in the language and force myself to speak it. Before he got sick, Gauss and I had planned to spend some time here after he retired. I'd been hearing him speak Italian with his parents for so long that I understood much of what I heard. But I've had difficulty generating speech on my own. He told me, "If you spent three to six months here, you'd be able to speak." Well, Gauss is no longer with me. I don't have him to lean on, so it's up to me to get around. And I'm happy to report that I've managed. In the ten days since I arrived, I've become more confident (or maybe more desperate!) so I just launch in, knowing that my Italian is lousy. But people are understanding me. Pasta with the Papagnos, first night here. Costanza had to reple
Read more

A Crappy, Crappy Day

The morning started with a bomb—a stink bomb, actually, at about 5:00 a.m. Gauss and I were awakened by some kind of wild yowls outside (not Spicy, he was asleep on the sofa) instantly followed by the pungent aroma of skunk. It was worst in the bedroom and kitchen, almost nauseating. We went outdoors to see where the smell was coming from, but out in the yard...nothing. Inside...BAM! STINK! Since I was up, I opened my emails, and the first one was a panicked message from the Paragon tenants—they had no water, hadn’t had it for a couple of days and now they were at the end of their rope. I made emergency calls to the well drilling company and to a neighbor, asking if the tenants could come by to at least get water from her hose. $1200 later, there is water again. Gauss had taken the train to work. I was going to give the car a rest and take the train to my well-deserved appointment with a massage therapist, but just as I was leaving, the phone rang. Gauss’ boss had forgotten to tell h
Read more